


Odds

by achievingelysium_archive (achievingelysium)



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Archived from FFN, Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievingelysium/pseuds/achievingelysium_archive
Summary: Were the odds ever in her favor at all? Prim didn't think so. Not with her sister destined to die. Prim's POV of the reaping.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen & Primrose Everdeen
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

_I stand in the town square. I see a Capitol woman; grotesque hair, huge eyes, a wide, eerie smile. Her yellow eyes lock with mine, and her eyes are too joyful for someone who sentences two people to their deaths. Haymitch stumbles on stage._

_The woman says,"Ladies first."_

_A second passes by, and sweat trickles down my neck. It feels as if time has slowed down. Rory stands next to me, but he says nothing, just stares ahead at a fixed point. What happened to my friend?_

_The woman whispers, but the words are clear, "May the odds be_ ever _in your favor."_

_She picks a sheet and unrolls it. The name shocks me and I shake._

_Primrose Everdeen._

"No!" I scream. I jolt up in bed next to Katniss. How can my sister be so calm, when her name is in there 20 times? I am terrified; for myself as well as my sister. I climb into bed with my mother. I don't want to wake Katniss, so I curl up next to Mother. Katniss hates Mother.

Ever since Father died, Mother started closing off. She would sit in a chair and stare at nothing. Eventually Katniss couldn't take it anymore. She screamed at Mother and stormed out. I could tell Katniss hated our mother. I couldn't blame her. Mother had done nothing, letting an eleven-year old girl provide for herself and her little sister.

But that made Katniss strong. Katniss takes after Father. He hunted, she's a hunter, he loved to sing, she's an amazing singer, and so on. I take after my mother. Quiet, shy but understanding, underestimated, and I'm more of a medic than a hunter.

When I wake up again, my sister is gone. So is the cheese I made as a present, my father's hunting jacket, and her boots.

She must be out hunting. In the Meadow. The Meadow is as the name suggests, a large meadow, leading to a forest.

I don't know much of that; it's locked with an electrical fence, and is dangerous, so I rarely go. That is where Katniss goes hunting. She has perfect aim after years of practice. Then, she goes to sell it in the Hob, an illegal black market. I go there too, sometimes, but all that is mostly Katniss' job. I stay at home, make cheese, do odd jobs, and help my mother in healing.

Buttercup meows at me, and I fondly scratch his head. Mother is up and baking bread from tessera grain. She smiles and beckons me to the tub. I scrub myself clean, pretending I am washing away my insecurities. But they come rushing back once I step out.

Mother is dressed in a dress from a long time ago, and she laid out a ruffled blouse and skirt for me. Katniss wore it for her first reaping too, and it's a bit bigger. Mother notices and pins it up, forming a duck tail. Katniss comes back, covered in dirt and sweat. She sets some good bread and half a gallon of strawberries on the table, and takes her turn to wash. I look in the mirror, and I see someone who is not myself.

This girl is beautiful, and her hair is in two braids, and so on. But I feel like myself.

Katniss walked out, and she looked gorgeous. Her hair was up and she was wearing one of Mother's dresses, a soft blue one.

"You look beautiful," I tell her, because she is.

"And nothing like myself." She throws back.

I must have looked terrified, because she hugs me. I take comfort in her embrace, her strong arms, the distant smell of pine trees. For a second, a flash of something-panic?- flits across her face. Then, she is calm.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck." She tells me. I giggle.

"Quack."

"Quack yourself." She laughs. My sister's laugh is filled with love and joy; it makes you want to make her laugh. "Come on, let's eat."

She plants a kiss on my head and steer me to the table. I feel safe here, all my problems gone, just me and my family, together.

We eat the grainy bread from tessera, and drink milk from Lady, a goat Katniss got me for my birthday. I love Lady, a sweet gift and useful companion. I'm not very hungry, and I play with my food. Out of the corner of my eye, Katniss eats little food, too. Is my fearless sister nervous too? Scared, helpless?

* * *

It is one o' clock. We head down to the town square.

My stomach clenches in nervousness, and I grip Katniss' hand. Everyone is lined up, waiting for Peacekeepers to take a blood sample.

I shudder, and my brain moves through fog. They prick my finger, and the small dot of pain clears my head. I walk trembling to the back, with all the twelve-year olds. We are a sniveling, crying mess. I want to cry too. I lock eyes with Rory, Gale's younger brother.

He comes over, and our hands come together. _For reassurance._ I tell myself, but is that true? My heart flutters, and I flush. Why am I acting this way?

All in our group listens to Effie Trinket, the Capitol lady, of how the Hunger Games came to be. Mayor Undersee sits in a chair in the front. Effie is onstage, so her seat is empty. So is the third chair.

Katniss told me that was where Haymitch, one of District Twelve's living victors sit, but she also told me he was drunk most of the time. I am sweating now, Effie's eyes look into the crowd, as if contemplating which two of us will go. I see the two glass bowls holding thousands of slips. 

_One name, Prim, just one name._ I know, but this is my first Hunger Games. Anyone younger than twelve is not allowed to watch. I will either go in, or watch a gory death of an innocent person. Effie walks to the first bowl. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. I let go of Rory's hand.

"Ladies first." She says.

Her heels click.

Her hand drops.

She pulls out a name. It's not Katniss Everdeen. It's not Madge Undersee. It's not Delly Cartwright, or any of my friends or my sister's friends names.

It's me.


	2. Chapter 2

_It's me._

People look at me. I clench my fists, and look forward, trying not to cry.

I hope Katniss and Mother know I love them, I will not come back. Ever. I am not strong enough; to wield a weapon or to much less hurt people. I walk in stiff steps; I am a robot, following commands.

The crowd murmurs as they step aside. At least I will not be forgotten.

"Prim!" The shout cuts through the fog. Who is calling me? "Prim!"

Everything rushes back. I am Primrose Everdeen. I am twelve years old. I am a healer, I have a cat and a goat. My sister loves me. My mother loves me, but is sometimes closed off. My father is dead.

For a moment, I wonder how my mother will hold up, but I am brought back to reality by a flash of blue. The same blue my sister is wearing. I gasp. _Katniss._

"I volunteer!" She yells. _No._ "I volunteer as tribute!" 

_No. No No No No NO!_ Any eligible boy or girl can volunteer to take another boy or girl's place. There is confusion. No one has ever, _ever_ volunteered. Really.

In a haze, I hear Effie and the mayor. "Lovely! But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um. . ." She is unsure of what to do. "What does it matter?"

The mayor looks pained. He recognizes Katniss, perhaps from here and there.

"What does it matter?" He asks again, gruffly. "Let her come forward."

That's when it sinks in. My sister is going into the Hunger Games.

I am hysterical. I wrap my arms around her. She can't go. _She can't. She will die. I am going to watch my sister die. Die._

"No!" I scream, trying to prevent her from going. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" I yell.

Tears stream freely down my cheeks. My strong, wonderful, beautiful, loving sister can't go.

"Prim, let go." She says harshly. I am surprised, but I detect the sadness, the love, the pain behind her words.

"Let go!" She says more forcefully, and I am hefted into the air. Gale. Only Gale would let my sister go, and help her as a last request. I thrash in his arm, but he is stronger than me. I yell and kick and scream.

"Up you go, Catnip." he says in a strong, unwavering voice.

The low, soothing tone calms me a little, but I see my sister, and I move. He carries me back to Mother, and the three of us stand together. I sob into Mother's shirt.

There are words, but all I see is her.

Suddenly, a shift occurs. People, as if signaled, touch their three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and hold it out to Katniss. It is an old, rarely used gesture. A sign of thanks. Of admiration. And of good-bye to someone you love.

I do it too. "Good-bye, Katniss." I whisper. I am drained, and I sink to the ground. _Good-bye to someone you love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was originally posted on FFN, and is being archived on AO3. General disclaimer: my old writing does not always reflect my current opinions or skills.
> 
> Originally written on: Jan 21, 2013.  
> To be backdated.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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